One of my all-time favorite activities is being in an airport by myself— without anyone I know traveling alongside me.
Some people think it’s crazy, and I understand why. Airports are hectic. They can be anxiety-inducing. People have a fear of traveling solo. The list goes on.
But I genuinely find so much joy in walking into an airport with my luggage rolling across the tile floor (that’s one of my favorite sounds), checking into my flight, and sitting at the gate by myself.
I have memories of sitting on the dirty, cold floor in the Kathmandu airport writing in my journal, detailing the last four weeks of my service trip. I have memories of running through the Cusco airport to see if there was an extra seat on a plane I wasn’t scheduled to take until the last possible second. I have memories of sitting at a restaurant in the Lima airport drinking a Stella Artois after my flight got canceled, knowing somehow, someway it would all be okay.
I have so many memories of being in an airport amongst thousands of other people from all over the world. People who have no idea who I am, where I’m from, or where I’m going.
Which is where I learned the beauty of being alone in a place where no one knows you… that beauty being: you are given the gift of being by yourself.
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There is a difference between being alone and being by yourself. Anyone can be alone. You can find ways to stay busy, preoccupy your mind, and lean into distractions.
It is an entirely different thing to be with yourself. To understand the art of doing nothing, to listen to your mind as you let it run rampant, and to silence distractions so you have the opportunity to really hear your thoughts.
The real issue here is: we are never taught how vital it is to be alone with ourselves. To actually like our own company. To not need a book, or a phone, or music, or a podcast, or any other crutch to escape what’s happening in our heads.
We run toward so many external things and rarely understand the importance of turning inward.
There’s also no one to blame here because chances are, anyone you’d cast blame on, wasn’t taught the significance of self-exploration, either.
You just have to accept that whatever you were taught or not taught was out of your control. It is how you decide to move forward that is up to you. So, that may mean learning at 25 or 35 or 65 what it means to really be with yourself and not just alone.
So many people are puzzled by my ability to travel by myself and to go off and have experiences completely solo, but what they don’t know is how deeply I believe in the healing properties of connecting with our true selves.
They can’t see the years worth of work I’ve put into me. The amount of effort I’ve channeled into understanding myself to be okay with myself.
It’s takes practice, time, patience, and a whole lot of love that doesn’t look like love. Skipping the party, waking up at 6am, spending money on books, classes, coaches, putting down the drink— none of that feels like love at first because we’re wired to crave instant gratification and none of that is the basis for instant gratification.
You don’t learn to like your own company and enjoy the sound of your own heart beat overnight.
But the more you show up for yourself, the harder you fall in love with yourself. It may take years and years to foster that relationship, but it is the single most important one you will ever be in.
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It takes drowning out the noise— the ever-constant attention grabbers. It means not making other people’s prerogatives your own and listening to what is hiding underneath the layer you don’t show the world, but if you never spend time with yourself, how will you ever know who you really are?
Time spent with yourself shouldn’t be the leftover choice after you’ve asked every one of your friends to hang out and they all said they were busy.
It shouldn’t be something you dread because you deem it “boring”. You have to learn that you can have “fun” with yourself, and yes, that “fun” will probably look different than the fun you have with other people, but that doesn’t mean it’s boring.
Start with:
Going on a walk by yourself.
Eating lunch alone at a new cafe.
Walking around a farmer’s market.
Pouring yourself a cup of coffee/tea and sitting outside as the sun rises.
It does not need to be anything big or crazy. You can save the big things for friends or family or anyone else if that overwhelms you.
At first, it will be uncomfortable, and you’ll wonder where to turn to and what to look at when you realize there’s no one to talk to and nothing to distract you.
But that is were the magic is.
In figuring it out by yourself. In sitting with the parts of you that feel the need to “do something”. In understanding why you wish time would fly by so you can get on with your day.
So, yes. I love being in an airport because it means I’m about to take off, but at the same time, I love being in an airport by myself because it means I get to go within.
The excitement an airport elicits married with the introspection that’s available when by yourself is the perfect combination to explore the possibilities of having fun with yourself while also learning about your soul.
And life is too damn short to not have fun and to not love the very company you’re on this whole entire ride with.
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